Jimin is gone.
There’s a formal announcement about it and everything, revealing he was masking as an alpha, while truly being an enigma.
Most of the guys are pretty bummed out, Jimin was a great teammate, a fun guy to be around. Some of them are glad, saying Jimin rigged the competitions by using his enigma privileges. A bunch of knotheads who can’t handle being beaten by someone smaller than them.
Jeongguk tries not to think about it. Jimin and him were always just competing, never really all that close. He doesn’t think he could even call it friendship. They just liked beating one another, challenging each other.
He tries so hard to convince himself it’s just that. They had a challenge, he lost, Jimin bitched him.
That’s all.
And the day before Jimin got kicked out, that was just..
He just wanted the mark to heal.
And then got carried away by Jimin’s scent, and his lips. Which is all excusable; no omegas around for a long while, Jimin being a pretty guy, kind of built like an omega even, of course his alpha wouldn’t oppose to a makeout session.
Plus, enigmas do have an attractive scent, that’s their whole thing, right? They smell good to literally anyone, they can make alphas leak slick.
So, it’s all just stupid pheromones and chemicals, nothing he can’t get over.
As soon as he gets his certificate he’s going to find an omega, fall in love, and Jimin will be nothing but a memory and a faded mark.
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It’s about a month later that he gets his certificate, and about a week after that he secures a spot in a special operations unit.
The few weeks he’s got left of summer he spends out with Taehyung, finally allowed to indulge in drinking again, partying, taking omegas home.
Though, as soon as he actually brings a guy home, he’s not as excited as he thought he’d be. The sweet, cinnamon scent is lovely, don’t get him wrong. He’s been surrounded by nothing but sandalwoods and pine forests the past months of training so finally smelling an omega does get his alpha going.
It’s just..
The mark on his neck burns.
It burns when he thrusts into the other guy, burns like the first time Jimin sank his teeth into him.
And somehow that turns him on more than the guy on his back for him.
His vision blurs a little, and the dirty blonde could pass for a lighter shade of blonde, those lips aren’t as plush but they’re still swollen from the blowjob so they pass as fuller ones, and Jeongguk can pretend.
He’s not usually a kisser on one-night-stands but he closes the distance rather quickly, in search of that taste from a month ago, the warmth of flames, the thrill of sharp, siren eyes on him.
But alas, when he peers through his lashes it’s innocent, warm brown eyes, twinkling up at him.
He breaks the kiss, leans back a bit and doesn’t close the distance again for the rest of the night.
————————
After that he doesn’t take anyone home anymore.
It’s not because of the mark, it’s also because he’s moving out. Head quarters are up in the north where it’s cold, he’s got his own place within the walls there.
It’s small, but it’s got everything he needs, he’ll be out doing classified missions soon enough so it’s not like he’ll be seeing much of his house anyway.
It’s a stark difference though, summer heat in the south is unbearable, but up here even during the first days of fall there’s snow covering the grass, all the trees barren, sky grey.
His house is pretty well isolated but right now it’s more so keeping the cold in than keeping it out.
He’s never used a hearth in his life but he manages to get a fire going after a while.
Tomorrow will be his first day, he’ll meet the squad, they’ll get to know what kind of missions they’ll be doing.
He’s looked forward to it for a while now, but for some reason, his mind keeps drifting off.
He lies down right by the fireplace, hands behind his head on the wooden floor, faces the flames, the heat of it radiating against his skin, the crackling of the firewood somehow putting him at ease.
What ever did happen to Jimin?
Did he reapply for summer camp? Or did he give up and go for an administrative type of job instead? With such great rankings he ought to be fighting..
It’s a shame really, but he gathers if enigmas are strong enough to change an alphas biology, they probably threaten the authority of most military personnel.
If Jimin wants a spot in any type of fight squad he’d probably be better off masking as an alpha. That’s what he was doing at summer camp in the first place.
Jeongguk brings one of his hands to his neck absentmindedly, brushes his fingers over the mark.
It hasn’t faded.
It’s still sensitive, all the hairs on his arms and neck stand up straight as he draws over the pattern.
He swallows, stares at the flames dancing in front of his eyes, the orange hue it casts over the brick. He breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut, other hand sliding down his stomach, between his legs.
It’s not the same as wildfire, but the burning wood carries something similar, that underlying warmth.
And if he touches himself right there it has nothing to do with Jimin, he’s just travel-worn and tired and needs something to knock him out good.
And if he caresses over the mark on his neck while he brings himself to his climax it’s just because it’s a sensitive spot, and not because he misses the warmth of a mouth covering it.
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His mother used to say there’s no such thing as a coincidence, the universe has it all planned out. He never really believed in that, everything to him feels like chance, just one big gamble, and the world favours those who take risks.
Today however, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to think.
His squad exists of himself and five other guys. They’re assigned one squad leader, the one whom he’s going to have to listen to for as long as he’s on this job, the one who he’s going to have to trust with his life.
Wildfire intrudes his senses before he even shows up.
His footsteps are heavy, secure, the military attire suits him well too. Jeongguk can barely keep his face in check, jaw slightly dropped as Jimin comes to a halt in front of the group and introduces himself.
He’s dyed his hair black, but other than that he still looks just as breathtaking as the first time Jeongguk laid eyes on him. That same perfect stance, those sharp, siren eyes, those full.. plush lips.
Oh fuck.
He tears his eyes off, has to keep his scent in check. Can’t start out his first day letting his entire squad know he’s got the hots for the squad leader.
When he’s sure it’s alright, he glances back up, catches Jimin’s gaze, detects the smallest, hidden smile on his lips.
————————
Is this a worst case scenario?
You’d think for a worst case scenario he’d feel upset, but his stupid alpha is purring and leaping with joy as soon as he hits his house.
It’s a confusing mix of pure frustration of seeing the one guy he really doesn’t know how to deal with being in a position of power over him, and something else. Something that makes the mark on his neck tingle, a heat that spreads from the pit of his stomach to every fibre of his body.
How did Jimin even end up here? How did he secure a spot as a squad leader?
He groans as he undresses, throws his clothes on the floor as he walks to his shower.
They didn’t even get to speak. It was all formal introduction, mission explanation, no time to chat.
All the while he had to control his breathing. Jimin was a little too far away to properly breathe him in but too close not to smell him with every breath, basically edging him through the entire introduction.
He thought that these months apart would help him see that it was just a proximity thing, a lack of omega thing, or maybe just an after effect of the bite mark. But it’s clear he’s still not over it.
Jimin’s scent still gets to him. Jimin still gets to him.
He huffs out a breath, scrubs himself clean, doesn’t pay attention to his half-hard cock, hides it behind a towel once he gets out to not deal with it.
But even on his face he spots the effects in the mirror. He’s all flushed, cheeks and nose red, tips of his ears burning.
His rut is due.
Overdue, actually. He was supposed to have it end of summer, but it’s already fall.
The knock on his door couldn’t come at a worse time, but he can’t really pretend he isn’t home, with the fireplace burning and all.
There’s this gnawing feeling in his gut when he slowly walks up to the door. His heartbeat picks up steadily as he sees the silhouette of someone on the other side of the window. Though it’s dark out, he just knows it’s Jimin.
He swallows, opens up anyway.
Jimin’s scent is so strong that the biting cold only hits him second. Wildfire envelops him so good that the winter wind against his wet skin is almost easy to handle.
Jimin’s jaw drops a little, it seemed like he was about to say something but now his eyes are running up and down his body, and all that comes out is:
“Oh”
If his gut feeling had been wrong he might have been standing in front of a commander in just his towel; who probably would have been far less appreciative. Jimin does take his time checking him out, before he finally speaks.
“Can I come in?”
No is probably the right answer. There are so many reasons Jimin cannot come in right now.
His rut is due, they’re in a power imbalance, they have to act professionally in this line of work, they have each other’s teeth mark on their necks, and Jimin’s scent is driving him so fucking insane he can’t even think straight.
So no, Jimin can absolutely not come in.
And Jimin probably knows that too.
But he can’t, for the love of god, find the will.
He just steps aside, allows Jimin into his house, and closes the door.
Silence fills the space, except for the soft crackling of firewood.
Jimin walks around slowly, eyes the living room as if there’s anything to see.
Jeongguk has barely unpacked, there’s nothing but brick walls, wooden floor, an old round table, a sofa right by the hearth.
He’s so full of questions.
Why is Jimin here? How did he land this job? Did he already know they’d be meeting again? Why does his bite mark still burn? None of it comes out of his mouth, he’s just staring, watches Jimin run his hand over the edge of the sofa, his sharp side profile when he faces the fireplace.
It’s no good.
Seeing Jimin in his home is doing things to him. He can’t help but orbit closer, breathe him in as deep as possible, until his lungs fill with flames, until heat wraps around his heart, sets it on fire.
Rationality slips through his fingers, and he just runs his hand over the edge of his sofa as well, until his hand slides on top of Jimin’s, until he’s standing so close that his front presses up against Jimin’s side.
He nudges the shell of Jimin’s ear with the tip of his nose, mumbles something without thinking.
“Bedroom.”